


Masked

by beaubcxton



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: All The Tropes, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Autumn, F/M, Fake/Pretend Relationship, Fluff, Fluff and Humor, Halloween, Halloween Costumes, Romance, See what my tired brain came with, Soulmate-Identifying Marks, Workplace Relationship, i hope??
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-27
Updated: 2018-10-27
Packaged: 2019-08-08 10:46:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 12,490
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16427885
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/beaubcxton/pseuds/beaubcxton
Summary: “You basically look different to everyone else besides your soulmate. They see the real you. Until you meet them, it’s like you’re wearing a mask.”UPDATE : BEING REWRITTEN





	Masked

**Author's Note:**

  * For [lovesickjily](https://archiveofourown.org/users/lovesickjily/gifts).



> To M, 
> 
> Happy Birthday!!! I hope you had the best day of your life and that you were showered with love and presents. 
> 
> You'll be one of my favorite people until the very end.

_This was a birthday fic for[@lovesickjily](https://tmblr.co/mWOxtnexJLCebrW5gihKPfA) who is without a doubt, one of the kindest person I know. I love you, my sun. _

When she was a child, she was read fairy tales about soulmates. In these magical lands, there were ordinary men who swept princesses off their feet, marks that foretold luster and joy. Legends even seemed to say that the kiss of a soulmate could cure an individual from the most induced sleep.

 She’d loved reading about soulmates as a child, found comfort in the weight and warmth of her mother’s presence as she read bedtime stories to her daughter. Her father used to laugh, a rich bellied laugh that shook the whole room, in the background and shoot her mother wry glances. He claimed they were soulmates and Tuney and her had laughed of course because they were just  _stories_ ,  _Daddy, don’t be ridiculous._

 How was she supposed to know that soulmates did, indeed exist?

 Rose Evans might have considered them too young, at the time to know about soulmate bonds and to warn them that boys sometimes did not slay monsters but were the monsters.

 After her father died, her conversations with her mother became more strained and embarrassing. She was often left hanging, waiting for a response though her mother sat but a few feet away from her, staring at empty frames.

 The only times Lily could recall her mother speaking was for the occasional tone of condescension or a rebuke of some sort. Something that usually went along the lines of,  _“Lily, behave. Apologize to your sister.”_

 It hadn’t mattered if Tuney was in the wrong, it never did. Lily had known her mother had sibling preferences but she couldn’t help but feel jealous whenever her sister was offered a smile, a look from their mother when all that Lily got was a pillow stained with moonlit tears.

 Time progressed and seconds ticked to days and days to years. Petunia grew up into a horse-shaped woman who claimed judgment more vital than fact and Rose Evans sobered into a quieter woman whose company was dust.

 Nothing kindled the excitement that once shone in her eyes, not even the announcement of Petunia’s engagement. Her bubble remained as strong as steel, shielding her along with the grief that Rose Evans wore like winter fur.  

 It wasn’t her fault, really that she hadn’t got the chance to teach her about soulmates and Lily couldn’t find it in herself to inflict some of the blame on her.

 A train’s horn is blared, underground and her heart jolts at the audacity, startling her from her thoughts. The grind and whoosh of the doors precede her mechanical movement stepping inside. She smiles as she notices a child dressed in pink and wielding a wand at her. The child sends her a wavering smile in return but the mother catches sight of the exchange and worriedly encloses her palm around her daughter’s small fists.

 The child turns to look at her mother and Lily looks away, the smile fading, quickly from her face.

 The doors slide shut.

 

* * *

 

The derivation of it began ten years ago on a Monday because all things have to happen on a bloody Monday. She’d taken a step towards teenagehood by accepting the herculean task of having a boyfriend. Pressure demanded it even though matters of the heart protested.

Sev and her had drifted apart, then and yes, Lily admitted to feeling a bit melancholic. It couldn’t be helped. He’d been her best friend for ages. It wasn’t surprising that their friendship ended, his gloomy personality was merely a catalyst that spurred things at a faster rate nor was it surprising that she spent her nights clutching old photographs when things were much more simple. When they only cared about who reached to the apple tree faster. 

Their fight had started off pretty simple but each dialogue added more layers. When things got this violent and heated, Severus would remark something pitiful and she’d fall for it, empathetic even though Mary called him an emotional abusive twat but when he came out as ANTI-LGBT, she’d ploughed on, adamant and watched as their decade-long friendship collapsed as if it had been struck with a bomb. 

Each spar left a scar on the other and Lily had called it quits after he’d revealed he’d joined some protest movement. She’d tried to change his mind, she did but the only thing that change was the status of their relationship. 

If she closed her eyes, she could remember the way Severus, her once best friend, stalked forward, breath slimy on hers, so close and asked her if she was ‘one of them. A fag, aren’t you, Lily?” 

Suffice to say, they hadn’t talked since. 

Marlene had perfected the role of a movie best friend and with a very practiced tone, as if she’d been preparing for this moment all her life, claimed, “Snape’s a dick.” Lily had grinned, weakly because she was only thirteen after all and such acclamations were not to be worded until she was of age. That’s what Petunia said, anyway. 

“You know, what you need?” Marlene asked, passing her a bar of homemade chocolate. Such luxuries were rare and pleasured, one of those moments trapped in history kind of feelings that evoked an immense feeling of joy and brightness when thought of. Marlene’s mother made the best desserts, a skill that her daughter recognized. Hoarding them like a dragon, she was almost stingy with the small tin that her mother sent every Christmas. But as she solemnly passed it to Lily, the latter knew that shit would be going down (as her friend, Dorcas would say) and chewed into one without the usual luster. 

“What?”

 “A boyfriend!”

 “What?”

 The idea was prosperous. Even unfathomable. Petunia still hadn’t had a boyfriend and when pressed about it, turned her dainty nose up high and scoffed with much remarkability and cockiness.

  _“Dating is such a waste of time, Lily, you’ll see. It’s much better to get married, at once! Settle with someone-”_

 Lily had droned out as her sister started to get into a heated conversation (with herself) about mortgages, whatever that meant. Maybe, it was like a medicine of some sort. Petunia always shrieked and turned red whenever they passed a medicine called Via-something in the market.

 “I am not going to get myself a boyfriend.” Lily says now, resolutely but as she takes in the cool and cocky smirk on her best friend’s red lips, she knows this would be a hard battle to fight in.

 “Don't you want one?”

 This throws her off. Does she? In some perspective, of course. She’d dreamt about men like Fredrick Wentworth and William Darcy. Lily was a hopeless romantic, at heart and often whipped pages apart in the library, a guilty expression on her face as she devoured letters from lost love.

 It would be vain to say human beings ought to be satisfied with just another’s felicity. Lily could imagine the sensation of a boy’s calloused hands on her dainty palm, his bright grin as they whispered secrets in the dark.

 Did she want a boyfriend? Absolutely.

 Now? Not really. She couldn’t explain why but nothing were more important than her tedious classrooms and notes about ancient kings.

 “I-uh, no.” She says, hoping the lie might seem believable enough. She didn't say she was a good liar, did she?

 “Why are you blushing like you just thought of-” Marlene concludes by saying something no teen should ever have the horror of knowing.

 “Marls!”

 “Lily.” The girl mocks and settles back into the chair, plucking the clip apart from her hair and sighing as she shakes her head. Lily admires the manner by which her ringlets cascaded down her neck, in a velvet manner. Marlene was one of the most beautiful girls in school and quite intelligent making her the subject of much admiration from boys and girls alike.

 She pops a candy in her mouth, after offering it to Lily, lazily. Dropping the wrapper on the floor and ignoring the glare Lily gives her, she goes on, “You don’t have to kiss him or anything. You- oh alright, I’ll pick it up later. You just need to go out, have fun and I know someone who’s perfect for you. He’s a total geek and he looks really cute.”

 Lily’s resolve crumbles but she continues to protest, albeit weakly. and Marlene shrieks in excitement at her desperation.

 

* * *

 

 Seven days later and she was laughing at the onslaught of snow hit her head on. Roger Davies was the kind of boys you read about in books; infamous blue eyes that were shielded by locks of blonde hair that flopped as he shook his head and winked at her. The kind of boy that liked his hot chocolate with cinnamon. With Flannel sweaters and dimples in his cheeks, Lily was beyond smitten.

So when, he gently pushed a stray curl of hair with his mittens, the wool rough against her milky cheeks and her heart beating a mile a minute, Lily smiled as to provide incentive.

“Go on.” She breathes, boldly.   _Kiss me._

Spurred by her reaction, he leaned in, the dimples in his cheeks so very beautiful and murmurs, “Did I tell you blunettes were my favorite?”

Her breath catches. 

Blue? 

She mentally ticks what’s she’s wearing and ends up being confused. She wasn’t wearing any blue. What was he on about? And, she did not have blue hair but actually, crimson. It was her best feature. 

She doesn’t have more time to ponder the strangle sentence as his lips come crashing over hers, rough and contradictory to his persona and his hands are tugging her forwards. 

It’s weird kissing a boy, she thinks, and uncomfortable. Her neck hurts with the weird angle and their teeth clash together. The awkwardness increases as she represses the urge to sneeze as his hair’s tickling her face.  

When his hands move to her bra strap, she pulls away, looking disappointed, reflecting his sentiments.  

She wonders if she’s made a mistake.

 How do you know when the time is right?

 Can you take back your first kiss?

 There was no second date, in the end. 

  

* * *

 

“How was your first date?!” Marlene uncrosses her legs and jumps from the bed; it groans at the movement as she bundles towards the door.

 Lily rolls her eyes and unravels the knot in her scarf. Tugging it with more force than necessary, her fingers clench around the wool.

 “Not that great, then?”

 Lily gives another tug.

 “Not that bad?”

 Another rough tug.

 “Terrible?”

 Lily grunts but still continues her forceful manner of undressing. A loud and dramatic sigh is heard in the tense silence of the room before Marlene’s long and slender fingers, perfectly trimmed red nails, dance around the scarf untangling it with the patience and softness of a kitten.

 After the scarf is safely out of reach from Lily’s wrath, Marlene drags her to the bed and massages her shoulders.

 “What happened?”

 Lily shrugs and Marlene slaps her back. “No moving while the massage is taking place...Are you going to tell me now or do I have to threaten you and risk our ice cream?”

 “It wasn't that bad.” Lily amends, quickly. There was nothing as important as ice cream. “I mean, it was great but ..”

 “What? Was he an asshole? You tell me Lily and I swear to all my lipstick and Chanel-”

 “You don't even have  _Chanel_.”

 “ON MY VERY REAL CHANEL,-” Marlene exclaims loudly, “-I will kick this guy so hard, he will reach Buckingham Palace.”

 Lily giggles. “Not to the moon?”

 “The moon is my queen. She doesn't deserve to be tarnished with the male gender.”

 “I thought you liked men?”

 “I  _do_.” Marlene says it rather regretfully and groans, as she pulls out a knot from Lily’s hair, with a quick, chastise of ‘honestly Lily, don't you comb?’ “Anyway, you’re evading the question. Did he pull a nice guy thing?”

 Lily snorts. “Pull?”

 “Oh no. I’m corrupting you.” Marlene doesn't seem sad about the fact in the slightest. “Lily, the knots you have, it's like you got snogged or something.”

  _“Wellllll._ ” Lily drags out the word and smiles when Marlene’s hand still and then, abruptly spin her around. Her best friend looks maniacal with those wide stunned eyes.

 “Shut  _up_.”

 Lily laughs. “I thought you wanted to know when my first kiss was?”

 Marlene screams and Lily quickly hushes her. “Be more loud, why, won't you?”

 “I will be. I can't believe you weren't going to tell me!’

 “I was. Seriously. I was getting to it but then, you kept pestering me about Rogie and I just-”

 “Wait a hot second.” A frown twist Marlene’s features and she raises a finger as if to give more thought. “Why were you upset then?”

 “It was so weird!” Lily bursts. Now, that she's started spewing out her weird and unexplained emotions, she finds it difficult to stop. “He, Rogie was lovely. Kind and everything. Said all the things like they did in the movies and he was so  _so_ dreamy.”

 Marlene squeaks, turning a shade of red. “What about the kiss? Was it like the firework moments?”

 “It was  _awkward_.” Lily says simply, her hair shielding her from her best friend's incredulous face but not her tone.

 “You mean to tell me, that you kissed someone before  _me_ and all you can say about it was that it was  _awkward_.”

 “He's a nice guy.” She protests. He really was. He pulled her chair out and complimented her in the right moments, held her hand when she kept it on the table and everything. “But,” she adds. “It just didn't click.”

 “Click?”

 “Yeah, you know, one of those breathless  _hi_  moments?”

 “Oh, honey.” Marlene now, offers a sympathetic hug. They were avic believers that romance should play out like it it did in movies. “We’ll find you someone new. Someone to help you get over Rogies.” She assures, wiggling her eyebrows spontaneously.

 “Eeek!”

* * *

 

Adam Mckinney was one of the coolest guys she’d ever met. The kind of guy who wore leather jackets and boots to school, the very definition of a heartthrob but still managed to be funny and kind.

He brought her daffodils, her favorite flower that she’d mentioned to him in passing and offered her his notes that one time she was absent.

She wasn’t foolishly brought into the notion that she was in love with him though Marlene kept teasing her about it. She liked him a reasonable amount, almost as much as the rest of her school did.

There was something exotic that made you want to know more but she hadn’t had an actual conversation with him and hadn’t even mentioned her love for  _books._

What if he disliked the blessed act of reading? Could she be with a man like that? Absolutely not.

Peer pressure, however, was tremendous and even the mightiest and boldest would find themselves stammering when victimized. Lily, for all her quips and reputation as a roasting queen, hesitantly replied a yes when he charmingly asked (in front of her the whole cafeteria!) her out with a wink.

She, desperately, wanted to confront him, later that day but much to her dismay, locating him seemed improbable.

Here, she was, sitting very uncomfortable as he ranted about why Pride and Prejudice made illogical sense. Lily wanted to punch him, right there. What about the book was hard to understand? He had too much pride, she prejudice. A perfect fit, scientifically.

“What are your favorite shows?”

“Mine?” Lily asks, almost surprised she’s been asked. If she’d wagered a guess three seconds ago, she would bet he wouldn’t stop talking. “I love Friends!”

 His eyes light up but he smothers up, quickly enough and she’s disappointed. “It’s a  great show, yeah.”

 They lapse into an uncomfortable silence and Adam shifts his foot and his hand as if he doesn’t know how to deal with the  _lack_ of affection. Lily barely, barely manages to rein a groan in when he makes a sound as he situations his arm around her.

 She tries not to move, trying not to make it even weirder but their position is really giving her neck a cramp. The effect might have risen due to too many nights spent in the library but who’s to say?

 Adam suddenly touches her a chin and her whole body stills. Is he going to-? Her suspicions are confirmed when his eyes bore into her and that half-grin slides onto his face. Pulling her towards him, his eyes shut lazily as he murmurs, “I knew you were interesting, Lillian when I saw your eyes; grey like the thunderstorm.”

 And, she jumps back because thank Merlin and above, there’s a reasonable excuse to leave right there.

 “What did you just say?”

 Adam’s eyes are still half-lidded but the bewilderment is clear in them. “I said you had hot grey eyes!”

 Lily clucks a tongue at the word, hot.  _Honestly_ , out of all the words in the dictionary. When you had the option of calling a girl beautiful, gorgeous or radial, the option to call them hot was less than creative.

 “I need to go.” Lily doesn’t bother giving him a reason, quickly swinging on her coat and exiting the shop. The dialogue prickles on her skin, uncomfortably. It reminded her of a previous date wherein Davies assumed she had blue hair.

 Did  _she_ have some sort of color blindness? She anxiously thought, fear clutching onto her heart. Google had turned her into a hypochondriac and now, she automatically assumed the worst.

 Bursting into her dormitory, she flops onto her bed, ignoring the wild stares from her mates. “I’m going to die.”

 The bed creaks as her friends sit on it. Dorcas, true to her nature, offers a helping hand and groaning, Lily takes it.

 “What’s wrong?” Marlene asks, worriedly, peering at her closely as if expecting to find vulgar warts. “Are you okay?” She presses her hand on Lily’s forehead and frowns, tapping her cheek and back.

 “Marls-“Lily protests, holding back a chuckle. Her friends were more motherly than her biological mother. “Stop fussing. Adam said he had grey eyes and I-“ Feeling very foolish now, Lily tucks her head, abashed. “I thought I might have some kind of color blindness.”

 Her friends remain divergently quiet.                                       

“Lily-“Mary begins, sharing a look with Marlene and Dorcas, secretly and Lily catches on it like a wolf. She’s always been observant and hated to be thrown out of the loop.

 “What?”

 “You do know what soulmates are, right?”

 Lily rolls her eyes. “Of course. In Greek mythology-“

 Dorcas interrupts and it’s surprising enough that shuts Lily up. “Not in mythology. They exist in real life.”

 Lily examines them and wonders if they’re pulling her leg but then, she discards the possibility because nobody’s laughing and goodness knows, her friends are the  _worst_  actors so she sags back in her bed and is struck, almost with lightning, at the revelation.

“You look different to everybody.” Mary tells her, snuggling close to her so Lily wouldn’t lose herself to the anxiety, most likely. “I see your eyes as blue while Dorcas might see them as-“

“Grey.”

“And I see them as brown.”

Marlene sits on Lily’s left while Dorcas cuddles at the side. “If I saw your eye color as the true color they were, it doesn’t imply we’re soulmates. I might see your hair color as something else.”

“You basically look different to everyone else besides your soulmate. They see the real you. Until you meet them, it’s like you’re wearing a mask.”

Lily licks her teeth and nods. It certainly made sense. Explained why Davies thought she had blue hair, if anything.

She hadn’t even considered that soulmates could, indeed, exist. The princess in her went wild, immediately and she felt it in her pumping heart.  

* * *

 

Ever since she found out the ideology behind soulmates, she discovered a new hobby. Lily found it fascinating to ask people how they thought she looked like. The majority thought she had brown hair while some of them even said red.

When one of the people she detested said she had red hair, she’d been scared he was her soulmate but it turned out she was in the clear because he thought she had brown eyes.

Lily found it remarkable that she had no idea how her friends looked like. Marlene, it seemed had blonde hair and blue eyes while Dorcas and Mary had black hair with dark brown eyes.

She found it a bit bittersweet, not knowing how the people you love most in the world looked like.

As she grew older, her interaction with people became increasingly toxic. She’d lacked the energy to even imagine a relationship with a boy. They weren’t soulmates, what was the point of it all?

Her friends had insisted she give it a chance, that you could still have  _fun_ with someone, whether they were your soulmate or not.  _Some people don’t even meet their soulmates, Lily._

So, she’d let her infatuation with asking people, “How do you think I look like?” rest and her friends were right. You could fall in love with someone who didn’t see you the way you saw yourself.

Lily adored the smell of Joshua’s hair and how it reminded her of strawberry fields. There was nostalgic she felt when she sang along to his strumming before they burrowed under the covers.

She’d come to love the feeling of  _him_. They didn’t talk about soulmates, it wasn’t necessary but Lily was still afraid he’d tell her how she looked like through a compliment. It was an inevitable bomb and it set her on edge every time she saw an advertisement about meeting your soulmate when they watched a movie

Lily was only seventeen but she frequently fantasized about her boyfriend going down on one knee. There was something about blooming roses before a tsunami.

He’d came in one day and just told her that they were done. He’d met his soulmate, thanked her for a  _fun_ time and that was that. It hadn’t mattered how much she cried and yelled, nor the amount of ice cream she consumed because she’d known all along, hadn’t she?

She channeled her rage to soulmates, visioned all her childhood dreams burning and confined the dreamy wanderlust within herself.

Soulmates were an impending disaster.

When she saw people wearing shirts wearing soulmate identification shirts like ones that said,  _I have blonde hair! I have green eyes_ , she’d clenched her fingers and thought about a time when she’d  _been_ them.

The thought brought her more pain than she cared to admit. She’d blocked people, simply enough because they painted a lovely image on soulmates.

It was too much, too soon.

* * *

 

Years from today, he will tell his friends, over a toast of champagne, time actually stood still in the moment and if he was in a drama, trumpets would blare, the noise emphasizing the shock of the Gods.

At the risk of sounding like a sap, James loses his footing when the elevator door slides open and there’s a ruckus of sounds, followed by a feminine voice muttering a swear.

He stands, brushing his hands against his pants.  Desiring to be the first one to welcome the new recruit, he’s prepared to see a woman dressed in professional attire. And, while, she’s wearing a fitting suit, he swears on his favorite crime books his heart stops. He’s not prepared  _at all t_ o see mesmerizing emerald eyes that shone like gems accompanied with rosy heart-shaped lips and the most vibrant and striking auburn hair.

Swallowing, he instructs his feet to move forward. McGonagall had asked him to be on his best behavior and he’d been damned if he didn’t listen to her. Especially now that he knows who exactly the new recruit is.

He’s not the first to make his way to her. Peter Pettigrew, a shabby bloke, crumbs brushed against his lips reaches her first.

James watches as the most extraordinary smile lights up the girl’s face. He can already tell her joy is contagious.

“You’re the new intern, right?” Peter doesn’t seem remotely interested in the fact and James is frankly, confused and understandably annoyed. The woman deserved to be lavished in attention, not reduced to Pettigrew’s side comments.

“I am!” The goddess says, brightly, reaching out for a handshake but quickly withdrawing it when she notices Peter sporting a cup of coffee. “Lily Evans. Do you have any idea where I go?”

Peter shakes his head, reaching out a hand, balancing the cup, precariously and James wants to immediately jump because the whole office knows Peter is the clumsiest person. He’s even managed to knock someone’s else sandwich off its plate. (He was sitting in the next room when it happened.)

James is a moment too slow. As he takes a step towards her to warn her how inept the person’s she talking to is with a cup, Peter’s cup tilts and the dark liquid pours onto Lily’s white blouse, staining it a murky color.

“Alright, Evans?” He says, in worry, inspecting her and shooting Peter a look. “What’s wrong with you, mate?”

Lily waves a hand in protest. “It’s fine.” It’s really  _not._ To Peter, she says, “Don’t worry about it.”

Peter doesn’t deem responding, choosing to walk away, sullenly. James stares, astonished, as the man fixes his gaze on a scone on his colleague's desk and shoves it in his mouth.

When he turns to look at Lily Evans, he’s fretting again. Pulling out a stack of tissues, he shoves it in her hands. What does he do next? Call the ambulance? She might have gotten a burn.

“Do you want me to take you to the clinic? My car’s right down.”

Lily, finally, looks up and her eyes widen a little at his rambling and lack of tact, most probably. They both stare at each other for several heartbeats, unsure on how to continue.

“Er-” James begins to say because he’s a dumb  _arse_ yet he justifies himself. He’s never seen anyone so undeniably gorgeous, it’d be a shame if he didn’t act like a loon. “Do you want a shirt?”

Lily snaps her head to look at her shirt and her cheeks bloom with rose. His eyes stray there but he chooses not to ogle. He needed to have some manners, not act like a depraved man. Considering she’s wearing a white shirt which is soaked with coffee, he’s privy to certain images.

She pulls the box, covering her chest and shuts her eyes as if she wants to curse herself to existence.   

James rubs his neck, awkwardly. Shrugging off his coat, he drapes it over her shoulders. Lily flutters her eyelids at him and he knows he’s already  _fucked._ She’s barely murmuring her gratitude when McGonagall strides in.

Their boss cooly inspects the scene, her chestnut eyes flashing dangerously when she locates Peter chewing his dessert.

“Pettigrew!” She barks and the man drops his pastry, jumping in fright.  

Lily freezes besides him but James shoves his hands in his pockets. The rest of the staff sit up straighter and click their computer screens, typing nonsense.

“Oh, Miss Evans.” McGonagall strides towards them and cocks her head. If she’s curious about James’s lack of garments and Lily’s unusual clothing choice, she doesn’t show it. “Welcome. I’ve seen you met James Potter.”

Lily smiles at him, quickly before nodding at their boss. “I have. He’s been especially kind.”

James’s hand finds its way to his hair and he ruffles it quickly. “Already like me, Evans?”

He realizes what a ponce he’s made himself to be when Lily throws him a mortified glance as his boss shoots him a dirty look. While McGonagall is used to his antics, Lily doesn’t know what a total moron he is and how he keeps shoving his foot into his mouth. He’d grown up with Minny so she’s not fazed by his vulgar language and total disrespect of the workplace but it looked like Lily was. Great, she probably thought he wanted to sabotage her or something more terrifying.

 “If you’ll come with me, Ms. Evans, I’ll see if I can replace your shirt.” Lily holds the box with a hand and practically throws the coat on James before she follows McGonagall. 

James watches her go like a dog that’s found he’s been chasing its own tail. Sirius claps him on the back from behind. “Tough luck, mate.”

 Lily quickly buttons up the blouse her boss lent her. She brushes her hair and stares at herself in the mirror, trying to regain her cool. She taps her cheeks, trying to diffuse some of the red.

 It was just her luck to meet some adorably cute and dorky at work, only to find out he’s some kind of bohemian. He even had  _glasses_ and the most mussed up hair that called out to her hands.

 And, he’d been so  _kind_ and caring, she wanted to call Marlene and squeal for seven minutes straight. It was so her luck for him to say something absolutely rubbish and embarrass her in front of her boss.

 McGonagall probably thought something might have gone on, probably thought she was some kind of tramp and she might lose her job, now. Lily shuts her eyes and splashes some water on her face.

 Lily quickly wipes herself off with a tissue and replays her day. Right as she was about to enter the washroom, she was accosted by Pettigrew, the bloke who spilled coffee all over her new and expensive shirt. He apologized, in great depth, to her and pitifully remarked James had asked him to do it.

 To say she was furious was an understatement.

 Wishful thinking had begged her to reconsider. Pettigrew might have been lying but she quickly disregarded the thought. This wasn’t prekindergarten.

 James had been flashed by her tits, the nasty bugger. Got a first-row seat to them,  _even_.

 It didn’t explain why he’d given her his coat and offered to take her to the clinic so she couldn’t be too mad at him but she still found herself beyond annoyed at the male spectrum.

 Flinging the door open, a little harder than necessary, she raps on McGonagall’s door and enters when she receives permission. She’d yet to have a briefing, namely because her boss had been preoccupied with getting her something warm to wear.

 “You’ve met James Potter and Peter Pettigrew. The former is one of our best at sorting data while the other-” McGonagall trails off and faces Lily, offering her a warm smile. “You can come to your own assumptions about him. You haven’t met Sirius Black and Remus Lupin, yet. They’re all troublemakers so you might want to take your time being introduced to them. Sirius and James, they’re like brothers. Don’t see one without the other.”

 Lily shakes her head as McGonagall offers her a tin of chocolate biscuits.

 “The information will prove handy. You’ll sit next to James Potter. ”

 Lily’s eye twitched but she nods and stands up, locating her box and cradling it towards her body. “Is that all?”

 McGonagall smiles at her, impressed by her attitude. “Yes. You may go. And, Ms. Evans? Good luck. I have high expectations from you.”

 “Thank you.” She swiftly makes her way out of the office and scans the room.

James Potter’s messy curls are visible even across the room and she makes her way to it, tucking her box against her side. Up close, she sees the frown curled around his face. He’s throwing the same paper ball on his computer screen with visible frustration. He tightens his posture and swings his chair when he notices her.

 “Look, Evans, I’m sorry.” James can’t hide his enthusiasm when she drops her box on the desk next to his though his face still looks rueful. “I jest around an awful lot and I’m-”

 Lily shrugs and bluntly, says, “It’s fine.”

 She doesn’t have the time to balance her irritation and doesn’t want to create bad blood on her first day. He still looks hesitant, almost like he’s debating whether to splutter out a bunch of apologies but nods and the metaphorical curtains draw open.

* * *

 

 “There’s Evans!” Sirius says, dramatically as she enters the office exactly on time.

 She’s worried someone’s noticed. She’s never been  _late,_ as such because she makes it a point to arrive almost ten minutes early but she stayed up till three am, giggling with the girls. They had a girl’s night, finally and they’d stalked James Potter’s profile. At one point, Mary accidentally watched a video of him on Instagram and Lily had all but shrieked.

 They spent the rest of the night googling the code of conduct when Instagram was related and Lily was dizzy with relief as she found out he wouldn’t know it was her who stalked him.

  _Technically_ , it was Mary but if James were to find out his arch nemesis secretly thought of him in a non-professional way, then there would be fires to extinguish.

Currently, she throws Sirius a questioning look and walks to her table. James follows her with his eyes but she avoids looking at him. Forbid she do something mental like blush, not that she would.

 She doesn’t know how to explain  _what_ they are. Their status, rather. When she first started working, she’d been convinced he was a total shit. Not only did he steal her sandwich thrice, _(“I thought it was Remus’s! I swear!)_  but his cocky pose set her on edge.

 So, she’d started retorting to his random comments much to the delight of his friends who were glad to see James being one-upped. That started their daily roasts and yes, he was  _frustrating._ The way he kept running his hands through his fucking hair made her nostrils flare and the way he kept humming Christmas songs every  _day_ made her bite her lips till it drew blood.

 Most of the times, their arguments were harmless, a manner in which they passed the time. It provided them entertainment, provided the whole  _office_ a distraction from their numbing work.

 Their spars and debate usually make McGonagall pinch her nose and sigh heavily as if she regrets her decision of hiring both of them. Lily used to worry, at first and truth be told, it was often one of the main sources of her pent-up frustration with James but after, all the shenanigans the Marauders got up to, her strain was disregarded.

 That didn’t mean Lily threw her moral values out the window but it did imply that she might have resorted to harmless pranks. (It wasn’t like she recorded and posted videos of James being victim to these so-called ‘pranks.’) (She did.)

 Other times, their anger was more raw and genuine. A blunt tongue, Lily often said something she didn’t mean and James, he said things he didn’t mean, either. They stormed away, after fights like this, took a minute, or a day to clear their heads and bought the other a gift. They’ve never actually apologized but instead used gestures. James, for his part, kept a plastic bag of jelly beans on her desk and Lily kept those rubbish oatmeal and dark chocolate biscuits he adored on his. (Both of them were a horrible mixture. Biscuits were supposed to be sweet and unhealthy. What was the point of it, otherwise?) They’d never talk about the fight, again and it worked for them.

 She disliked him, immensely and found the way she  _really did not_ outrageous. There was something so attractive about him. It might have been the rugged appearance, the scruff on his jaw and his lopsided grin that led her to (frequent) dreams. Or, it could have been his crooked glasses. Might have been the masochist in her that drew energy from their verbal attacks.

 It was purely physical, whatever she felt for him.

 She was certain of it.

 “James, the old chap was worried you’d been.”

 Lily ducks her head, under the pretense of plugging in her computer so they wouldn’t have seen her involuntary grin. “I wasn’t late. Maybe, you just don’t know how to count?”

 Sirius gasps, dramatically and Lily rolls her eyes. He knew she was kidding. ‘The Marauders’ were some of the smartest people she knew, unfortunately yet Sirius resorted to such theatrics.

 “You wound my heart, Evans! Keep the insults to James. He finds it sexy.”

 Lily chances a look at James who’s in the midst of shooting Sirius a murderous glare. His cheeks are dusted pink and she’s sure one of her intestines jumps. James runs a hand through his hair  _fucking_ again.

 “You alright?”

 “Er, yeah.” She faintly registers it’s the first time they’re having a civil conversation. “Just didn’t get my latte.”

 “Pretentious.” James scoffs, spinning his chair. Sirius shakes the hair from his face like a dog and gives them a - _it’s started_ \- look before he departs.

“Fall is a very sentimental season.”

 Another thing she doesn’t like about James Potter is his smirk. “It’s overrated. Christmas is way better.”

 “It’s not competition,” Lily says, lightly and clicks her emails and nearly groans when she sees her inbox flooded with 700 messages. “We all know you’re secretly an autumn phile. Even a blind man can see the way you look at my pumpkin spice candles. Could you light them, by the way?”

James whistles, lightly. “I guess the lack of coffee made you even bossier.” He lights the candle and indeed, his eyelids flicker shut for a nanosecond as the scent drifts. “You’re such a fall alcoholic. You’ll, probably, chug autumn themed drinks if they sell.”

Lily catches the lovesick look and grins. “I drink pumpkin spiced coffee.”

James smiles widely and Lily looks away, heart beating erratically, a result of their banter.

"Mr. Potter, Ms. Evans! I warned you  _not_ to burn that candle.”

* * *

 

James is dying and he should probably tell Sirius to include his cause of death on his grave, that name being Lily Evans. 

Even her name was  _beautiful_. Doodled it a thousand times in the corner of his sketchbook, he added a P. Lily Evans Potter had a nice ring to it but he’d be willing to take her name so should she ask.

 He’s in love with her, it’s not even funny anymore because he doesn’t know how to act like a normal human being in front of her. All attempts of nonchalance were thrown out the window and were replaced by dad jokes and puns when she so much as peered at him.

 He was  _British_! Wasn’t that equivalent to a cool and mysterious nature?

Apparently not. James must have missed some etiquette classes because he turned out to be more of a git instead of the suited bloke whose accent drove people mad.

 He wanted to be  _them_. Not the kind of guy who spluttered water when he saw the bird of his dreams wearing something nice.

Lily wore a sweater today, rustic brown and her hair was messed up and the visage was so intimate he’d nearly want to bang his head on his desk because he was a fool who’d been subjected to the curse that Lily had him under.

 He was certain she was a sorceress. Did she have some vendetta against him in their past lives? Was he truly a berk in all the universes? Wouldn’t put it past him.

Going to the extent of practicing his lines in front of the mirror, he rehearses the retorts he’d studied on Tumblr the night before. Her smirk the next morning when she ‘defeated’ him in their battle of wit made up for his dark circles.

 “Pumpkin spice latte for  _Doe_?”

 He likes to call her Doe, in his head because his favorite animal is a stag and imagining her to be the mortal version of it is a lovely thought. James grins as the order’s called out and collects it, checking whether it has extra pumps of caramel.

 It’s her favorite, he thinks as he ruffles his hair, nervously.  

* * *

 

 Lily comes in from her lunch break and sees the cup of coffee on her desk and she’ll be lying if she said her heart didn’t swell up.

 “Potter?”

 “I thought you weren’t speaking to me, Evans.” James responds, quietly,  absorbed by the computer screen. He clenches his jaw and hits the keyboard, vigorously as the words of  _Game Over_  are heard. “Ruddy muffins with guns.”

 It’s Lily who runs a hand through her hair this time. She doesn’t know why she’s surprised. James has always been like this, even with her. He’d brought her coffee daily, for nearly a month when she started but she’d barely tolerated him, then so he’d stopped.

She’d never realized how simply kind he was like it didn’t matter.

He was that way with Sirius and Remus. She knew for a fact that James took Sirius under his wing when the latter left his homophobic parents and he kept pestering Remus to eat, always offered him a chocolate bar in the morning.

On her first day, he’d lent her his coat and she foolishly thought it was because he wanted to see her tits. Fucking  _hell_.

This just made her life a thousand times worse because now, she had reasons to like him and his insufferable face.

“Er.” Lily feels like a deer caught in the headlines as James’s eyes are trained on hers. Did she leave her mouth and brain in the cafeteria? “Thanks, mate.”

Two seconds after she says it, she feels like shoving her face in her pillows and screaming. Did she actually just say  _mate_? His eyes crinkle and screw her, it’s a beautiful sight. Is this how she ends up spiraling? If this was how jumping in a pit felt like, she had no intentions of ever returning.

 “Don’t know what you’re talking about, Evans. If it’s converting you to a December fan, you’re welcome.”

 “Ponce.” Lily says, instinctively because as much as she liked Christmas, she loved fall and insults against the season were a direct insult on her.

 “Twat.” He muses, affectionately.

* * *

 

 The cataclysm started off like most things do. There was too much wine burning against her throat and it was after seven pm. There’s something about texting her sister that drives her up the wall, it’s a poisonous concoction of annoyance, bitterness and an unhappy childhood.

 So, when she receives Petunia’s wedding invitation, a pale letter that goes along the lines of,  _We cordially invite you to be a part in our blessed matrimony,_  she scoffs and throws it on her desk. She doesn’t want to go, her attendance was a formality.

 It’s evident her sister doesn’t want her to be there so she doesn’t understand why, when her phone dings, there’s a message from her sister.

  **Petunia Evans** _: I know I said you could bring a plus one but you don’t have to hire someone. We already know your love life is pitiful._

 Lily has a brief moment of mental therapy where she pictures her phone bringing hurtled at the wall. She’s not allowed to do that, her bank account warns her. Was this her sister’s attempt to gloat? To instigate her?

 Her love life has become a debate in the Evans household. When she turned 20, her mother had wished her (on text) and asked her if she was ready to get  _married_.

 Lily had let it slide, hoping it was a joke but when the same comments kept repeating like she was stuck in some sort of loop, the family had a whole argument about society and their, admittedly, need for marriage.

 It doesn’t help soothe their nerves that Lily, practically, swore off dating. She’s had her share of events but nothing serious and nothing that she’s told them about.

 When she receives the message, though, there’s enough buoyancy and lightheadedness to her that makes her want to tease her sister.

 Sending all her messages individually, she knows for a fact that her sister is enraged by the ten-texter, she replies, giggling at the purposeful grammatical mistakes and spellings.

 **Lily Evans:**   _Don’t wrry._

 **Lily Evans:**   _I’m dating sooome1._

 The reply comes instantly.

  **Petunia Evans** :  _Freak. I cannot believe you have a job based on the despicable way you type. Guess we’ll see if they’re fictional or not._

 Lily’s grin falls flat as she realizes she needs a date to her sister’s wedding. She couldn’t back out; not to be overdramatic but she’d rather die. She didn’t have any male friends in her life, not really and she was tempted to ask Mary to accompany her but worried it’d give her sister a stroke.

 Running through all the guys she can think of including her ex-boyfriend, she makes up her mind to accost her colleague, the next day. She was desperate enough.

 “Sirius!”

 The man lowers his sunglasses and observes her, lazily. Protocol deems sunglasses necessary only in  _sunlight_ but Sirius still wore it at work, under the dim glow of fluorescent lights.

 “Sorry, Flower.” His drawl is clear and crisp. “Couldn’t believe you were speaking to me.”

 “I need a favor.”  Lily wrings her hands together, cursing her snarky personality that put her in this whole mess. She sees his eyes go wide behind his crimson screen and quickly stammers out an excuse before she backtracks.

 “You’re not getting rid of me that easily, love. What do you need? Some of this?” Sirius gestures to his body, winking at her and she mocks a gag. “I’m surprised it took so long, honestly-”

 Lily sighs. “Will you be my date to my sister’s wedding?”

 Sirius chokes on air. “Are you serious?” The pun rolls off his tongue, easily and she feels a flash of sympathy for his friends who, no doubt, think the joke is overused.

 When his expression falls, she expects it and waits for the rejection. “James’s kill me, Evans. I can’t.”

 Surprise ignites within her. “What’s Potter got to do with any of this? And, excuse  _me_ , I have standards. I need you to fake date me.” She drops in the seat next to him and covers her eyes with her hand. “My sister’s getting married and she’s always giving me shit about being alone so-”

 “I’ll go.” His voice is firm and when she peeks at him, incredulous, there’s an intense look he’s sporting but he hides it when he catches her staring. “I know a thing or two about shitty family.”

 She straightens up. “So, we’re actually doing this? You’ll go with me?”

 “Sure, Flower.” Sirius beams at her and she’d be lying if she said she wasn’t afraid. Famous for his reputation of being a prankster, she’s sure he has a couple of trickles underneath his sleeves. It seemed improbable he’d readily agree to their arrangement. She didn’t have a choice, unfortunately so she shakes on it.

 “Why’d you ask me and not the others? Is it because I’m so irresistible?”

 Lily hesitates, dusting her back as she strides away. “Yes, actually.”

 His bark of laughter follows her all the way to her seat.

* * *

 

 She should have known that  _all_ men could  _not_ be trusted.

 A day before her sister’s wedding, Sirius is absent from work and Lily, anxiously scans the hall for him, wishing his apparition would pop up. She’s worried he caught a cold or something worse and sends him three frantic texts;

  **Lily Evans:** _Where are you?_

  **Sirius Black:** _on the bed, y?_

  **Lily Evans:** _???????????_

  **Lily Evans:** _I need you?!!_

  **Sirius Black:** _Everyone does._

  **Sirius Black:** _I’m sick._

  **Lily Evans:** _??? BUT YOU’LL BE OKAY, RIGHT????_

  **Sirius Black** :  _Worried about me?_

  **Lily Evans:** _IM WORRIED ABOUT ME! THE WEDDING IS TM._

  **Sirius Black** :  _Oh right. Hang on._

 She stares at her phone in dismay. James’s phone dings across from her and she hears a shuffling before a startled sound splits the air.

 He’s wearing a white shirt today with the first buttons opened so she has a view of his tanned skin so she blushes, naturally.

“Alright, Evans?” James nuzzles his hair, shifting in a position that his chest is even more visible.

 She nods, not trusting herself to speak, eyes quickly snapping towards her computer skin. If he’d seen her staring...she’d rather not travel that route.

 “Sirius said you had a thing? Some wedding engagement?” James glances at her, sheepishly when her mouth drops open. “He said you needed a date since he’s unable to come so if you’re er interested….” James trails off as the silence draws on, merging into a rosy color.

Lily swallows, catching onto Sirius’s plan, immediately. She’s going to kill him if she survives fake-dating James because she is interested and it’s hardly a consequence of her despair.

Lily  _tries_ to act cool. “Are you asking me out on a date, James Potter?”

“No!” James says, immediately, drawing hurt from the woman in front of him. “I mean, not that I’d be against it or anything but I mean, I’m offering my services. That sounds wrong. Not sex services,  _fuck_.”

Lily covers her mouth to hide her smile. He was even adorable at ranting. “Guess I have a fake-date, then.

 **Sirius Black** :  _have you heard?_

 **Lily Evans:**   _i was going to make you a molten lava cake as a thank you_

 **Lily Evans:**   _But not anymore_

 **Lily Evans:**   _ur dealing with a savage_

  **Sirius Black** _: fuck_

* * *

 

 Fake dating Lily has some perks. He gets to hold her, tuck curls of her hair behind her ear, gets to talk to her. She wanted to set some rules which was a crime against him since he was  _so_ very cool and-

 “Stroking your ego again, Potter?” Lily admonishes him. “Focus.”

 They’re sitting in a coffee shop, in the corner so it’s dark but the atmosphere is warm enough that her cheeks are rosy. He doesn’t know how he’s still conscious of thought. James raises his hands in surrender. “I’m paying attention. Tell me about yourself.”

 “This isn’t a date, Potter.”

 “Funnily enough, I know that,” James remarks casually. “If we’re going to do this, it needs to be done properly.”

Lily looks pained as she nods her agreement. “So, what’s your favorite book?” 

James laughs. It’s such a typical question from her, he can’t help it. “Anne of Green Gables, don’t judge.” 

Her eyes grow as wide as saucers. “Judge? I love that book! Anne is honestly, such an icon and her relationship with Gilbert, it’s unbeatable. What’s your favorite chapter? Book? Do you like Diana?”

James answers her questions, sharing her enthusiasm. They spent the rest of the coffee trip geeking out about several books. He pegged her for a coffee lover but she was apparently a cocoa enthusiast.

 He’d never had so much fun in  _years_. The only thing that soured his mood was when she said she disliked tea.

 

* * *

 

 If she had to describe the events that followed, she could only call it  _torture_. It was simply maddening to act like they were lovers when they acted like children who pulled off a prank at work.

 Their ride to the countryside was crisp and fresh against their skin. Windows down, their voice staining their air, they sang Korean songs for a solid two hours.

 Tearing up at Spring Day by BTS, both their voices cracked and they recovered from the emotional song by talking about  _cheese_. It had been a spellbinding conversation, to say the least.

 They’d been greeted relatively well. Petunia’s eyes had strayed to their clasped hands but only sneered at James’s lack of public courtesy as he swung an arm around her and pressed a kiss on the crown of her head.

 James, he was  _professional_ at acting. She doesn’t know why the fact was astounding, it just was. He’s remarkable at a number of things, exceptional at his job though she’ll never admit it. He looked at her with the secrecy of a lover, served her those secret glances and frequently touched her. Not, in an inappropriate way but his hand was either on hers or her waist or  _somewhere_. It was like he  _wanted_ to drive her mad.

 It was frustrating to be so close to him and not take advantage of the fact. Her temper kept getting the better of her, as a result, and once, he’d even stooped down and asked her if she was alright. It was a marvel she nodded considering the way his breath set off a row of goosebumps on her skin.

 They talked about a lot of things. James, shared her principle, on several values including social and political views which was important. It would have been a deal breaker if he had an opposing opinion to Brexit as compared to her.

 A man in the shadows seeks attention and  _fuck_ , it’s Severus Snape. Quicky looking at James, she tugs at his arm and stands on her tip-toes. He’s so damn tall, almost a head over her.

 “What?” He asks, eyeing the waiter passing pastries.

 “You need to kiss me, now.”

 He whips his head toward her. “ _What_?”

 From the corner of her eye, Lily can see Severus advance and she never wanted to see him again, let alone get in a conversation with him. So, she hatches on the only idea floating around in her mind.

 Grabbing James’s chin and angling it, she only has time to see his wide eyes behind those crooked spectacles and then, her lips are crashing over his. He’s immediate in response, pulling her flush against him. Arm curling around her waist, the other goes to her scalp, massaging it. She groans in his mouth and he shivered, putting a leg in between hers.

 And  _fuck_ , if she forgot she was at someone else’s wedding, then. She hadn’t kissed someone in ages but even if she had,  _nothing_ could  _ever_ hope to compare to James Potter’s kisses.

 He was everywhere, his hands setting off a line of fire and she let herself tug those messy curls for one infinite second before she did, indeed and it was unfortunate, realize that she was at a wedding.

 Her sister who was going to kill her if she glimpsed their makeout session.

 Unwillingly, she pulls back and surveys her environment. Severus Snape and her family are nowhere to be seen, thank God but there are a number of guests who look disturbed and determinedly pretend they didn’t just watch a snogfest.

 “Er, thanks.” Lily manages to say, not looking at him and trying to calm her erratic beating heart.

 “Thank you.” James chuckles, his tone is a bit hoarse and husky and her mind flashes into overdrive making her blush more.

 She resisted the urge to touch her burning lips _._

* * *

 

  “So, how did you meet?” Petunia asks, over dinner and the rest of the table looks at them. It’s a smart move, asking her in front of a bunch of people, further elevating the scandal she’s sure is going to happen.

 Screw her. If there was something Lily’s anxiety was good for, it was coming  _prepared_. She’d revised several speeches with James and he, bless his soul, had even made a binder,  _color-coded_ to make her crush worse (for it was nothing more than a crush) that covered several topics of interest like their meeting, how serious their relationship was, what kind of biscuits the other liked and who drank tea first in the morning.

 She was prepared for everything Petunia could throw her way.

 “At work, actually.” James throws her a winning smile, all dimples. “She was the new recruit and I was instructed to show her around. Knew the minute I saw her she was the one.” 

“That’s so sweet.” Petunia murmurs, stabbing her fork in her vegetable. “What drew you to my sister?”  _She’s not prepared for that. They hadn’t even-_ “It certainly wasn’t her looks!” 

The company laughs, taking it as a joke but Lily clenches her jaw and stares daggers at her sister. James grips her hand too and exhales, heavily.

 “Are you kidding?  _Look at her_. Have you seen anyone so beautiful?” 

Lily almost snorts at the horrified look Petunia displays. Lines like those were the reasons she liked James, he was so fucking rude, it was hilarious.

“Besides all that, she’s one of the most intelligent people you’ll ever meet,” James says, charmingly. Lily keeps the smile on her face but hopes she manages to convey her disbelief in the look she sends him. It was dangerous to stray out of their comfort zone. Something they practiced. “She has the most adorable quirks. And, she’s fucking  _hilarious_.”

 James keeps the grin on his face but if it was anyone but her, they’d be unable to taste the heat of his tone. He drops her hand to mess up his hair.

Vernon makes an annoyed sound at the vulgar language. “That’s...nice, I suppose. What about you, Lily, darling?”

She manages to keep the disgust off her face at the nickname. James growls and shifts an arm around her and she burrows in his side, gratefully. She should have worn her coat, it was growing chilly.

Thinking about the question, Lily reflects. “He makes me laugh. And, he’s so exceptionally kind. I hadn’t realized I liked him, funnily enough, till he missed work once and I missed him. I feel happy when he’s around.” She says, honestly, looking at James in the eye.

There’s a soft smile playing on his lips that she hasn’t seen before.

“Everyone should be kind. It shouldn’t be called a _good_ quality but a _human_ one.” James bumps her in the shoulder. “And, _you’re_ one to talk. You’re the kindest person in the world. Remember that time when Peter dropped his coffee on you. Did you offer to buy him another cup?”

When Lily purses her lips, refusing to answer, James guffaws. “You’re so ah, adorable.”

“And-”

“That’s so sweet, dear.” One of the guests say and both of them whip their eyes off each other like they’ve been scalded by the other’s gaze. Lily forgot to play pretend there and unbeknown to her, so had James. “Even a blind man can see how in love with each other, you both are!”

* * *

 

 “Who the  _fuck_ are  _you_ , mate?” James snarls, arm tightening around Lily’s waist. He keeps her secure around him like a doll as he stares this git in the  _fucking_ face.

 They were almost done with this painful wedding, three steps to the car, in fact when this creep jumped them and kept apologizing to Lily, asking her to take him back. James found it hard to believe and disturbing if he’s being honest to even think about Lily going out with a guy like  _that_.

 At the risk of being shallow, he has to admit that the man’s hair was dreadful; greasy locks that looked like they’d been dunked in oil. It reinforced James’s decision to stay the  _fuck_ away from hair gel. With a hooked shaped nose and yellow beadish eyes, he was the type of guy woman screamed and ran away from if they happened to encounter him on the street, alone.

 Lily seemed uncomfortable by the situation so he decides to handle matters himself. If he’s lucky, he’d even get to punch the arsehole. He’d seen him giving Lily looks all evening and he wanted to confront him but was held back by Lily’s (beautiful and smooth) hand.

  “What’s it to you?” The creep retorts, walking forward and craning his neck in his attempt to talk to Lily. “I’m sorry, okay? Can we put it past-”

 “Can you fucking drop it?” Lily bites, shoving James’s hand and stalking towards the bloke. “I told you I did not want to talk you ever again-” James wants to keep her a thousand miles away from the man but let’s her fight her own battles and kick this guy’s ass.

 “Lily.” The man’s voice breaks and James feels happy vindication. It served him right. “I love you.”

 James, only has time to process his own shock before Lily’s fist goes flying and onto the bloke’s face. The force of it sends him staggering and James whistles impressed.

 Red pours from the man’s face. “Lily.” He wonders aloud, outraged and shocked that someone who’d been so innocent as a child would have the audacity to strike  _him_. “What the fuck?”

 James is at Lily’s sight in an instant, a scowl shadowing his face. “Back off, mate or I’ll do something worse than what my  _girlfriend_ did to you.”

 The man turns to Lily and this time his look is pleading. “Tell me you’re not with him, please.”

 Lily entertains them with a brief and loud chuckle. “Grow up, Snape. Let’s go, James.”

 James, for good measure, nestles his nose against her neck, prompting a squeak from Lily which makes  _him_ wish he was having a cold shower.

 “Learn to back off, you asshole,” James says, twisting from Lily’s hold right before he decks the man in the nose too.

* * *

 

  Laughter rumbles the car as both of them trying to compose themselves. Lily burst out laughing as soon she entered the car and James had joined in. He still didn’t know what they were laughing at but it was so farcical he couldn’t stop.

 “Did you-” Lily gasps, tears at the corner of her eyes, “-see his face?”

 That sets them laughing again.

 Finally, when their throats ache, their chests running dry, Lily leans back in the seat with a sigh. “You didn’t have to hit him.”

 “I did.”

 “No, I mean.” Lily’s lip tug upwards. “It’s going to scar him. I hit him real good.”

 “You did.” James chuckles, warmly and then, as if the thought has suddenly just struck him, he looks at Lily’s hands and freezes. Her skin’s ripped apart at the fingers and it looks gruesome with it’s pink and red hues.

 Lily looks at it and shrugs, grimacing at it, dissatisfied like she just tried something sour. “Yikes.”

 “Evans, oh my God.” James looks at it, frantically, having no idea what to do next. He unbolts the glovebox, hurriedly and thrusts his hand within it, which is a daring move since they’re driving Sirius’s car and he has all sorts of rubbish in his vehicle. Riffling through the papers, he pulls out a box, swearing.

 “James, chill.” Lily says, when she notices he uncurls some bandages. “I’ve been in plenty of fist fights before, I can handle it.”

 He doesn’t seem to hear her, consumed with worry. He screws the lid of a plastic bottle open and wets a tissue. Wiping her blood with it, he looks impossibly worried he’s causing her further harm so she tries to control her hisses when the cold stings her wounds. He wraps the wound with a bandage though the glue appears dry.

“We’ll get you something better once we’re in the city, yeah?” 

Lily’s pulse stutters, overwhelmed by the human before her. Reaching out and pulling his own marred hands onto her lap, she traces the warm thrum of blood with a delicate finger.

James holds back his shudder at her visceral sensation and lets her inspect his hands. It’s fairer off than hers at any rate; there isn’t a line of crimson in sight.

“How’d yours manage to look-”

“Not as bad as yours?” James hazards a guess. “I learned karate as a kid. I’ll teach you if you’d like.”

She makes a noncommittal sound. James, for his part, turns pink when he visualizes the eventual brushing as a cause of the compromising positions.

Lily contemplates him and he’s blown away that someone as fascinating was sitting in the car with  _him_.

“Your eyes.” Lily says, eventually. “What do they look like?”

James nearly chokes on saliva. That wasn’t a question people usually asked, not around him, anyway as he’d been clear that he wasn’t looking for a soulmate. He thought you’d fall in love at the right time and right place, not because the universe set you up.

Lily’s face is a disarray of emotions, unpredictably shock and self-loathing. “Oh my god, can you forget-”

“S’okay.” James quips because it is. Lily could ask him anything, there’s not a thing he doesn’t want to tell, want to hide from her. “What do you think they look like?”

Lily shifts, uncomfortable, wishing like the ground would swallow her up. At least, if that happened, she could meet her icon, the goddess, Persephone.

She’d dug up her own grave. “Er, I think they look like a multitude of colors. Drives me mad, honestly. Sometimes, they look gold, sometimes amber or hazel. How, how-”

James’s heart swells up exponentially large. “I still haven’t figured out how they look like.”

Lily digests it. “ _Oh_.”

“Yeah.”  James’s hand reaches his hair but doesn’t say anything else because she seems discomforted with the scenario. He couldn’t blame her. If he found out there was a chance, he was her soulmate, he’d freak too. There was a part of him that wanted to scrutinize their dialogue from day one but it was a violation of privacy so he decided to just shut up.

Lily opens her mouth but there’s a sharp rap on the window that interrupts her. Jumping, they locate one of Petunia’s inquisitive friends peering at them. She’d spent the whole night asking them ridiculous question and providing opinionated notions about straight marriages and how  _very_ spectacular they were. It didn't sit well with either of them. If there was one thing that James and Lily shared in common, it was their bisexuality. 

 “Drive.” Lily mutters, smiling through pursed lips at her. The woman points her bony figure at the window, requesting them to open it. Instead, James waves and stamps his foot on the pedestal, accelerating them away from the wedding and towards home.

* * *

 

 The moment they enter London, it’s not just the transfiguration of the environment and weather but also, their relationship or whatever they have between them. Lily, all but, throws herself out the car when he drops her off at the office.

 Watching her prance along and into the building and once, she’s out of view, he drops his head to the steering wheel with a groan.

 How they acted around each other was so confusing. James wanted, more than anything, to be friends with her. All the events of today just made his stomach churn.

 He was still not over their kiss,  _her._ He’d naively wished it was real and not all pretend but chances of that were beyond slim. She’d left her fingerprints on everything that constituted his life. She was there in the morning when he was getting his tea, there in the afternoon when he was plotting with his friends and  _fuck_ , now, she’d left her traces on him.

 All this excess energy in him, a result of not being able to do anything, led him to the gym and other deplorable activities but now, he’d have to go to work and see her and, it was fucking hell, it was  _hard_.

 He groans and bangs the door shut and can almost hear Sirius’s shouts two floors down. The man was too attached to his car. He plucks out his phone from his pocket and is assaulted by hundreds of messages.

 Scrolling through him as quickly as he can, he rolls his eyes as his supposedly best mates send him teasing remarks about his preoccupation with Lily. He’s not  _obsessed._ He’s merely mildly mental about the way she was written and painted, all sharp edges and colors.

 Remus, the worst of the lot, remitted ninety messages about his love life, or lack thereof.  _Tosser_ , all his friends were traitors.

 There’s another message from one of his meet-and-greet friends (The kind of friends who you didn’t actively seek out but were on amicable terms with and still, resorted to coffee and passing smiles.)

  **David Poloski:** _Yo, wanna come and chill this Halloween? Having a party. Bring the whole gang._

 James licks his teeth, wondering why he even bothered to eat lettuce sandwiches when most of it got stuck it in between his  _teeth_. He wouldn’t mind going. The gang didn’t have any plans this Halloween, as staggering as it was. They’d decided to drop their bombshell of a prank three nights after Halloween, no one’ll be expecting it which make the whole idea even more humorous.

 So, they could go.. and he  _could_ invite Lily, it was only polite,  _only_ manners, he thinks earnestly. And, who was James is not an earnest man?

  James engages in a complex ritual involving handshakes and fist bumps when he passes Sirius and then, groans as his computer screen lights. A headache had already taken root and he stared, fictionally, at the promising weekend ahead.

 “Evans?”

 “Yeah, Potter?” There’s already a cup of coffee on her desk. It’s most worrisome.

 “You said you owed me, right?”

 Lily pauses and arches an eyebrow. “I did. Am I going to regret it now?”

 “There’s a party this weekend.” James hastens to reassure her. “Costume one. Was wondering if you’d be my date.”

 Lily hopes her internal panicking is barricaded from her face as her foot taps the floor, nervously. She doesn’t know if James meant a  _real_ date or  _fake_ date. She’d say yes to both, obviously.

 “You don’t have to come, I don’t want to force you or anything but-”

 “I’ll come.” Lily can’t keep the smile off her face and giggles when James turns an adorable pink. Nodding, he sports an animated grin on his face.

 “Great, great, great.”

 

* * *

 

It takes her several minutes to navigate past the crowd and not to bump into a snogging almost naked couple. The beat of music reverberates through her skull and grimacing, she makes her way to the kitchen.

 Texting James didn’t seem to work as the reception was barmy.

 She’d insisted on meeting James at the place, namely due to her inability to control herself when she was sitting next to him. Sitting beside him, alone, for an hour was bound to be excruciatingly embarrassing. She might kiss him, might touch his hand.

 So, here she was, stumbling in the dark, hoping she’d be able to locate James with relative ease. Alas, he was nowhere in sight.

 Someone shoves her as they try to reach the drink station and it takes all of Lily’s willpower not to punch  _back_. She needed to go for a run, after this. She was vexed and impossibly tired. Doing maths daily did provoke the emotion.

 The scent of alcohol is pungent enough that it follows her in the kitchen and just when she’d decided to just go home and rewatch Pride and Prejudice (The movie was a masterpiece) someone grabs her hand and she’s really going to shove their face up-

 “Alright, Evans?”

 “Potter?” She asks, switching directions, reeling from his shock at his attire. He was wearing a plaid white buttonless shirt tucked in khaki pants, brown skin glistening lightly. Swallowing, Lily observes the rest of them, adding suspenders on James Potter to the list of things she’s attracted to.

 James Potter dressed up as Gilbert Blythe for her. He even has the hair and those  _hazel_ and  _lovely_ eyes.

 Has she mentioned she’s one hundred percent fucked?

 “Had to dress up as Anne, didn't you, Evans? The Anne to my Gilbert.” James’s revelation sends her flying. He  _saw_ her, knew how she looked like. Out of all the guess he could have made, he said  _Anne,_ someone who had hair as identical as hers. Was he.. her soulmate? Was she  _his_? Her heart jumps from her chest at the possibility.

 “What color is my hair?” She’s desperate.

He sends her a soft smile. “The same color as rubies.”

 “And,” Her voice shakes. “-my eyes?”

 “As green as emera-” James is cut off as Lily flings herself at him, hand weaving around his neck. She muffles his laugh by kissing him and it’s euphoric. She found  _him,_ found the person she was meant to be with and her whole body thrummed with euphoria. His kiss was like him, gentle and promising. The symphony of their breaths was elysian and graceful, each pulse against the other that they’d reached.  _You’re here, you’re here, you’re here._

 When she was kissing him, she was not kissing just her soulmate but rather, James Potter, extraordinary dork, someone who made her happy,  _her_ Gilbert.

 He was the first person who saw her as she was molded to be seen, not just her appearance but her grace and flaws. She couldn’t get enough of him, enough of the heat he created when he pressed a kiss to her throat, when his fingers danced on her waist.

 “Told you they were shagging.” Sirius’s snarky voice pulls them out of their daze, from the other.

 “Not  _yet_.” Lily’s teasing smirk makes James kiss her once more, eliciting a groan from Sirius.

* * *

 

 He wakes up a few weeks after the reveal in bed and he thanks the universe he’s with Lily, his soulmate, his other half and most importantly, someone he trusts and loves.

 Lily burrows into his bicep and he snuggles her closer to his chest, wondering if there was a place that could be as comforting as this.

 There was something very raw about the way he looked at her; his face was a reflection of shards of a kaleidoscope. As if he wanted to take his time with her, not in a creepy way, mind you for James was no murderer, yet. The realization that he wouldn’t get to eat cake being a strong motivation and a strong driving force for his peace.

There was something about the way he looked at Lily, the way his heart melted, just a tad and how his stomach felt  _warm._ He wanted to take his time unraveling that feeling, unraveling her.  

She was an enigma, a puzzle. Each brush, each smile, each laugh a clue to the epiphany that would soon be clear as abstract rain kissing hues of humans.

“James?” She stirred, putting her ear on his heartbeat.

His eyebrows go up at the name because she stills calls him  _Potter_ , but he chooses to ignore it, all things considered. ‘Yes?”

“I love you.”

His heart stitched back together at the words, all arteries and veins reuniting and if it was possible, he could hear the rush of blood leaving his heart.

Perhaps, James thought as he leaned in and pressed a kiss to Lily’s head and returned the sentiment, you turned alive not at birth, but at moments like these.

* * *

 


End file.
